An Unlikely Pairing
by sufficientlyobscure
Summary: Two-shot. Hermione gets more than she bargains for in detention.
1. Chapter 1

An Unlikely Pairing

The snow landed carelessly on the grounds of Hogwarts castle, coating the terrain and quickly making it difficult to maneuver. Still, students dutifully bustled from class to class, dreading the time they would have to trek to Herbology. In class, their minds wandered to the snowmen and snowball fights they would enjoy later. The only person actually paying attention to their lessons was sixteen-year-old Hermione Granger. While the other sixths years' eyes glazed over with boredom, she eagerly translated ancient runes and answered question after question.

When it was time for lunch, she met Harry in the Great Hall, "All right, Harry?"

The famous Harry Potter looked up moodily, munching on his toast. He nodded but gave no verbal response. Immediately, his eyes returned to the Slytherin table where he watched Draco Malfoy. Hermione frowned both at her good friend and his enemy. Harry's obsession with the pale, gaunt boy was becoming extremely troublesome. His talk of Malfoy being a Death Eater was preposterous. Sure, he was seedy and his father was in Azkaban for that crime, but why would Voldemort want a sixteen-year-old? Hermione assumed that Harry's hatred finally got the best of him, making him near crazy. To the very least, overly paranoid.

She sighed. In their first year, she had a huge crush on him. His boldness and bright green eyes immediately attracted her. Plus, there was something about knowing someone she read about in books. She liked a work of fiction. Now she blamed it on being eleven. Especially since two years later her romantic interested turned to Ron Weasley, and there they remained. Even her brief fling with world famous Quidditch seeker Viktor Krum did little to stem her interests in the redhead.

Hermione searched the Great Hall for Ron and easily found him furiously making out with his girlfriend, Lavender. During winter break, her dislike for Ms. Brown and her animosity for Ron grew. The sight of their extremely public displays of affection made her ill. With his interests elsewhere and Harry fawning over Malfoy, Hermione felt extremely alone.

"I'm going to the library," she announced, though it seemed that Harry didn't care enough to listen. She hurried away, thinking she needed to befriend more females.

She felt quite at home in the library; most of her days were spent in there. A number of books lay in front of her, and her eyes eagerly read over a theory of arithmacy. Despite being the top of her class, Hermione took great joy in learning, much to the amusement of her peers.

A loud scoff interrupted her studying and to her surprise Draco Malfoy was the source.

"Mudbloods should be banned from public places. How can I feel safe reading books that you've gotten your scum on?" he said.

He stood looking quite smug despite his new sickliness. Hermione felt her face flush in embarrassment. Typically she would ignore his rude comment, but she felt attacked in her sanctuary. Coupled with that and her sense of exile from her best friends, her anger bubbled over. Hermione drew her wand. Silently she stupefied Malfoy, throwing him into a bookshelf. Instantly her anger passed and the devastation of what she had done hit her.

Madam Pince appeared instantly, gasping at the torn books strewn across the floor. A cry erupted from her throat, and she roughly escorted the two from the library. She gave threats of a ban, immediate loss of house points, and a promise of a joint detention.

* * *

"This is perfect!"

"Perfect?" Hermione responded, staring at Harry incredulously. "I might be banned from the library!"

Hermione, Ginny and Harry sat close to the fire, discussing the detention she would be attending tonight. She was ordered to rewrite the library's index, which would have been tiring enough if Malfoy wasn't attending it with her.

"You need to utilize the opportunity. Question Malfoy tonight. Try to look at his arm, too—I know he has the Dark Mark!"

"Harry, you're a twit," Ginny countered. "Why on earth would a Death Eater reveal themselves to Hermione? It's not like Malfoy doesn't know she's friends with you. He's an idiot, but no one is that stupid."

Hermione said goodbye and headed back to the library, dreading the next few hours. The prospective ban kept troubling her thoughts, but Malfoy was bothering her more. He was a constant plague on her and her friends. She felt especially venomous thanks to his choice words for her. Despite the upcoming detention, she did not regret her attack.

Madam Pince stood in the library with a sour look on her face. Malfoy was already sitting with a large stack of index cards in front of him. Hermione took a seat across from him—he looked extremely fidgety, as if he desperately wanted to leave.

"These doors won't open until ten," Madam Pince said, tapping her wand to the lock. "If you don't finish, you'll be back tomorrow night."

Once she disappeared, Hermione took her quill out and began to rewrite the records. They both worked endlessly for a couple of hours without exchanging any kind of interaction. Then Malfoy stood abruptly, tired of writing. She continued to work, attempting to ignore the boy pacing in front of her. Eventually, he sat back down, moving to the chair beside her. Hermione turned, wishing that he could have kept to himself for the last stretch of detention.

"I would rather not come back tomorrow," she said. "You should keep writing."

"I need a break," he responded, his hand traveling to her leg.

Hermione started at his touch, a mask of confusion flashing across her face. Why was Draco Malfoy, a pureblood Slytherin, becoming so suddenly intimate? She opened her mouth to deny his advances when his lips met hers.

"Malfoy!"

He simply shook his head, pushing his lips back onto hers. After being so occupied in the Room of Requirement, he had ignored Pansy Parkinson's usual blowjobs. Watching Hermione concentrate, he began to notice her perky breasts hidden by her sweater. The way she moved the quill's feather against her lips made him imagine her head in his lap. When she would make an error, her brow would furrow, reminding him of her in class. She was so tightly wound that he knew the second Hermione let loose, it would be crazy. His new awareness of her attractiveness plus the excitement of fucking his nemesis made Malfoy extremely aroused.

Draco grabbed her hand and placed it on his erection. A gasp escaped her, but naturally she groped it and pushed herself into the kiss. His own hand traveled up her skirt; his finger sweeping across her panties. At such a bold move, she removed herself from the cloud of euphoria and abruptly stood.

"You're not a virgin, are you?"

Hermione frowned. Her thoughts turned to the few nights she spent with Viktor Krum. She was fourteen then, but his rough charm managed to overwhelm her. She lost her virginity to him, and that was the last person she had sex with. Over the first few weeks of Ron and Lavender's relationship, she began to see Cormac McLaggen. She went down on him, but they never slept together.

"No, I didn't think so," Malfoy smirked.

Hermione began to move towards the door, but Malfoy grabbed her from behind. He pulled her to him, his lips brushing onto her neck and his hands touching her abdomen. He knelt her onto the table. She was overwhelmed by the grinding of his dick against her, and she felt her body react. Her nipples hardened and an undeniable tingle erupted in her. Slowly, she returned the gesture and pushed her hips back into him.

Gently he lifted Hermione's skirt, revealing her firm ass. The look of her pale skin against her black lace panties excited him more than he thought possible. Draco slipped them off of her: she did not speak or protest, she only moved slightly to aid the process. Without warning he slipped his finger into her and was greeted by her being soaking wet. His hand moved slowly in and out. Still, there were no words, only short, breathy gasps.

Hermione was quite mentally and physically torn. Draco Malfoy had been a blight on her memory since her first year at Hogwarts. He tormented her, belittled her, and his father tried to kill her last year. Then, Ron Weasley entered her thoughts. At night, she dreamed of his hand pleasuring her. But Ron was occupied with another girl, and Malfoy was making her inch closer to an orgasm. Despite her dilemmas, her physical desires won through.

Draco stopped, and with her leaning over the table, took his penis out. He hesitated, looking around and worrying about an interruption, but the warmth emanating from Hermione lured him beyond reason. He entered her roughly and a carnal moan left both of them. After weeks of ignoring his sexual desires, his dick quickly penetrating Hermione Granger felt like heaven. He pulled onto her hair, lifting her head up so he could see her ecstasy. He felt her muscles begin to contract and her body begin to spasm. Malfoy didn't wait long after her orgasm to release himself, and slowly collapsed on her back once he came.

They stood like that for a number of moments: him enjoying the residual contractions. Suddenly the doors clicked open—signaling that their detention was over. He removed himself without and without speaking they left the library, going towards their common rooms. When Hermione entered Gyffindor tower, Harry was waiting. She felt flushed and still excited, and the sight of Harry Potter couldn't maim her high.

"Did you find out anything?"

"Uh, oh, no. We didn't really talk," Hermione answered. "But I'll have to go back tomorrow night. I'll have a go at him then."


	2. Chapter 2

"Perhaps he's doing it late at night."

"_What?"_ Hermione coughed, her stomach churning ever so violently. She dropped the piece of toast she was pretending to eat and focused her attention on Harry.

"Well, I don't know _what _exactly. He looks… ill. Like he isn't sleeping! So, if I could follow him…"

"Harry, please. You follow him enough on the Marauder's Map. Do you think during those few hours you're asleep, he successfully manages to slip away and become a Death Eater?"

He did not respond, which Hermione was grateful for. Draco Malfoy being a Death Eater was surprisingly low on her list of concerns. Him grinding on her, pulling at her hair to watch her orgasm, exploding inside of her… she let out a soft cry of distain and closed her eyes. She wanted to be angry, but the only overwhelming emotion that kept crashing into her was embarrassment. She imagined her friends finding out, and the look of disgust that would plague their features. Even Ginny, who ran through relationships, would have no sympathy. But the embarrassment stemmed from the fact that she enjoyed every moment of their time together. Or at least their physical moments.

Is that what she was destined to? Hating the only person who physically pleased her? At that moment, Ron stumbled towards their end of the table, escaping the lips of Lavender. Hermione glared and immediately stood. At least she could hate people who certainly _did not_ please her. She had no idea why Harry bothered to be friends with the likes of Ron Weasley. It could not be for his charm or intelligence. Sure, he could be funny, but his humor seemed to derive from being the punch line of the joke rather than any actual wit. And yes, he had unbelievable courage and kindness, but he **knew** how she felt about him, and that did not stop him from gallivanting around with Lavender.

Plus, Harry could not stop mentioning the redhead's opinions. After his last lesson with Dumbledore (where Slughorn altered his memories of something called a horcrux), Harry was trying to figure out some way to coax the truth out of him. Which Ron decided would be as simple as staying after class and asking him. Ha!

Hermione could not bear to sit next to either of them during Potions and set her cauldron up at the far end of the table. She had a decent view of Malfoy, who had not spared her a single glance since arriving. Not even a grimace. Momentarily she wondered if she had dreamt the whole thing, but the memory of her orgasm was far too real. She blushed and buried her head into her book. If there was one thing that could make her feel better it was learning. She was totally immersed in her element here, practically unbeatable.

Almost immediately her mood improved as she recited Golpalott's Third Law at rapid-fire. She was out of her seat once their assignment was given, ready to force her problems away. As Harry began to struggle, she could not hide her smugness. The Half-Blood Prince seemed to finally fail him, and Hermione was glad to be rid of his reminder for one class. Her pleasant state of mind abruptly came crashing down, though, when Professor Slughorn made his rounds. Her potion was practically perfect, but when Harry presented him with a bezoar, he was praised for his nerve. She wanted to scream.

"And you thought of a bezoar all by yourself, did you, Harry?" she crooned.

She gathered her materials and darted out of the room, chancing a brief glance at Draco who looked almost as displeased as she did. She went straight to the nearest bathroom, ready to pick herself back up and force herself through the rest of the day. Her hair, although typically bushy, was out of control and her whole face was moist and sickly looking. She felt like crying but could not bring herself to do so. Not over Ron, _again_, or Harry who despite being one of her best friends did not understand her. And definitely not over her appearance, which she could fix with a small vanity spell. Suddenly, she didn't care about any of those things.

She needed to take control of her life. Fretting over Ron Weasley was above her! He could be with whomever he wanted and so could she. Plus, she knew that the half-blood prince would fail Harry eventually, and when he did, she could step in and resume her status as the most skilled student. When Hermione left the bathroom, the world seemed to be looking up.

It was nearing eight o'clock and despite her dislike for tardiness, Hermione was still pacing in her room. She stopped and stared in the mirror near her bed. She spent almost an hour trying to naturally tame her hair and when that failed, she resorted to magic to straighten her frizzy locks. She bitterly laughed at her reflection and quickly tied her new hair into a tight ponytail. She didn't want Malfoy to know she tried to please him.

Parvati Patil, one of her roommates, entered their joined room. Her eyes rose at the unusual disarray of clothes surrounding Hermione's bed. "Got a date tonight?" she joked.

"What?" Hermione snapped. Her eyes traveled to the mess she made in the room. Had she really tried on that many outfits? She smiled sheepishly and flicked her wand at the clothes. They neatly folded themselves and obediently floated back into her trunk. "Sorry. I've got detention, actually."

"Could've fooled me," Parvati said.

"Right. Well, then," Hermione said, gesturing to the door before escaping out of it.

She entered the library with only minutes to spare and was greeted by an impatient Madam Pince. She muttered an apology before sitting down, but suddenly noticed she was alone. "Where's Malfoy?" she asked, trying to keep her voice neutral.

"Mr. Malfoy is apparently ill. He will be completing his detention another day. When you finish, the doors will open," Madam Pince concluded before exiting the library.

Hermione sighed. She cursed the disappointed she felt. _It wasn't as if we were starting a relationship, _she scolded herself._ It was one time. With someone I really, really hate. I should be ashamed for even considering doing such a thing again and relieved that he isn't here to tempt me. Not that he would be a temptation because Malfoy is… bad._

She nodded resolutely, pulling her quill out and preparing herself for a long night of writing. And only writing. Her hand moved, copying the necessary words, but her thoughts traveled: Draco Malfoy's blond hair, those dark eyes, his sleek body, and stylish clothes. She realized she hadn't even seen him naked. Being in the library, there was a definite rush to the activities and taking the time to get properly acquainted was not in the agenda. Next time—she let out a loud, irritated cry and immediately shrunk back, expecting to be shushed by the librarian who was not there. There would be no 'next time.'

It took nearly two hours to finish copying the cards, but the moment she crossed her last 't,' the door opened. Hermione gathered her belongings and hurried out. It wasn't too late to reread her transfiguration essay one more time and perhaps get a quick look at Harry's. She walked down the seventh floor corridor and abruptly stopped when she saw Malfoy with two Slytherins she did not recognize. He turned at the noise and a smirk played across his tired face.

"Get on, you lot," he said, addressing the two unknowns. "I'll meet up with you later."

They stared across the hallway. After hours of telling herself no, Hermione's body answered his appearance with a resounding yes. _Just from the sight of him._ Could one night of pleasure erase how much they despised one another? They were in that situation because he called her a mudblood. He treated her and her companions with utter contempt.

"Ill, were you?" she said, hiding her want with a clipped tone.

"So I skipped detention," he responded. He took a few steps forward, his eyes flickering to an unused classroom to his left. "Care to show me what I missed?"

She inhaled deeply—it was easy to forget all the misgivings. She strode towards the room, not bothering to look back once she entered. The door quietly closed, and he stood immediately behind her. His fingers played at the button of her jeans, but she placed a stilling hand over his.

"The castle is deserted at this hour; there's no reason to rush," Hermione said and turned so that she could face him. Slowly she began unbuttoning his black shirt.

Draco stared down at her confused, but he did not interfere. Hermione Granger taking control seemed almost better than her losing it. She threatened his thoughts all day long when he needed to be thinking of how to fix the vanishing cabinet. His energy required focusing on how to please the Dark Lord and not on pleasing the mudblood before him. Except that's exactly where they remained—he couldn't get the whimper of her orgasm out of his head. He skipped detention to give himself more time to work but also to avoid the lure of her body. But now that he was on the right track to repairing the cabinet, he couldn't see the harm in enjoying her.

Malfoy moaned slightly as Hermione kissed his neck (standing on her tiptoes to do so) and closed his eyes as she made a trail down his chest. She brushed his shirt off and let it crumble to the floor. She felt bold seeing him react to her like that: his pants held a prominent bulge. She let her hand drift down to it, running her fingers across his inner thighs before lightly touching his penis. He jerked and his eyes shot open. They were passionate and lustful in a way no one had looked at her before. She faltered, but he caught her hand before she could pull away and placed it on his belt.

They exchanged no words. Honestly, she didn't know what they could possibly say. With Viktor, he muttered sweet encouragements and romantic phrases… albeit with a thick accent. This, however, was anything but sweet. She considered attempting to 'talk dirty,' but the idea seemed absurd and awkward.

Hermione undid his belt while he removed her sweater and bra. A chill ran through her as the cold air hit her chest, and she shivered with a sudden lack of confidence. Her initial reaction was to hide from view, but again he caught her arms before she could do any such thing. Malfoy's eyes roamed her shape appraisingly and a smile took his previously serious features.

"Who knew?" he laughed, breaking their silence.

"Knew?" Hermione responded. "Knew what?"

"Robes don't do much for you. If anyone actually saw— "

She interrupted with an aggravated huff. It was true, though, Malfoy noted. Her breasts may not have been large, but they were perfect on her frame. Her stomach flat, her body taut. Despite her annoyance, he deftly undid the button to her jeans and began sliding them off her. She resisted for a moment before aiding in the process and gesturing for him to do the same. Momentarily they both stood naked, a foot apart, uncomfortably staring at each other. _How on earth did I get into this situation?_ Hermione thought desperately, an anxious knot forming in her abdomen.

Draco breached the gap and with surprising gentleness lifted her onto one of the wooden tables. His head dipped forward as if to kiss her, but her shocked expression stopped him. He rerouted his kiss to her neck, and her head lolled backwards. As his tongue traced a pattern down to her breast, she jutted her chest out, hands sprawled behind her on the edge of the table. His mouth toyed at her nipple, his hand kneaded, and Hermione couldn't take it. She wrapped her legs around his lower back and pulled him towards her. "No reason to rush, I thought?" he said quietly into her ear.

Her experience with sex was limited, but when Malfoy entered her, she thought he filled her faultlessly. He pumped into her slowly, but her insistent legs encouraged him to quicken the pace. Her ass rubbed uncomfortably against the wood, but seeing him stand before her, a look of utter concentration on his face as he roughly rammed into her pussy… nothing really else mattered. She leaned further back on the table, and he went deeper than she previously thought possible.

Fucking Draco Malfoy should be disgusting. Should be shameful. Should **not **feel incredible.

His hand traced down her body, stopping to pinch at her nipple and enjoy the feeling of her muscles contracting beneath him. He brought his thumb against her nub, and a spasm went through Hermione. Her lips formed a silent 'yes,' and he continued to roll his finger against her clitoris. His hand worked as he unrelentingly pounded his dick into her. Her inner walls clenched, her back arched, and the same whimper as yesterday escaped her mouth. Her body relaxed suddenly, and he continued to thrust until his own release came. _Maybe next time I can work at giving her more than one, _he thought as she smiled up at him.

It took a second to come down from her high enough to realize she was _smiling _at Malfoy. He removed himself, and she slid off the table and hastily began dressing. This part certainly seemed familiar. With the sexual tension gone, there was not much left for the two. No kiss goodbye, no banter to exchange.

"I'll see you in class, then," Draco said, now fully dressed and standing in the doorway. He smirked, his eyes looking her up and down one last time before leaving.

Hermione groaned. This certainly _was_ a mess.


End file.
